Seduction
by Fandomobsessed77
Summary: Draco is hot and sweaty and he doesn't understand what it is about Potter that makes him so sticky with need, but Harry has no trouble exploiting it.


Draco/Harry Slash.

Warnings: Moderate sexual content, some swearing.

Disclaimer: I of course own Harry Potter, duh. But at lass, for legal reasons I guess I must put this disclaimer. Sigh.

 **Temptation.**

"What do you want _Potter_?" Malfoy spat, staring coolly at the approaching figure.

"Nothing from the likes of you, I assure you." Harry replied remotely. Malfoy said nothing, his glare settling on Harry silently.

"I heard something funny today." Harry said finally, breaking Malfoy's stare carelessly, "Want to hear?"

"I extremely doubt it."

"Apparently you reign little respect these days." Harry continued effortlessly, tauntingly, "How the name of Malfoy is.. _.slipping_." His eyes finally met Draco's once more, and Draco was surprised at the glint of shameless amusement there.

"Don't speak of my name, Potter. Not when your so distastefully below it." He snarled. A small, secret smile twitched at the corners of Potter's mouth, and although he didn't say a word, Draco didn't like it one bit. He tried to ignore it, to walk away. Why was he still here anyway? The chilly breeze bit through Draco's thin shirt, and he couldn't suppress a shiver. Harry eyes were drawn to it hungrily, like a bird to prey.

"Cold?" His lips pulled into a smirk.

"No." Malfoy replied flatly.

"Don't be like that _Darling._ "

"What did you just call me, Potter?" Malfoy practically _hissed_.

"Nothing, Pet." Malfoy growled. That infuriating smirk had still not left Potter's lips.

"Don't _ever_ call me that again Potter, or I swear you'll regret it." He ground out. Potter said nothing, he simply kept smirking.

He brushed past Draco agonizingly slowly, "See you around, Malfoy." He whispered into his hair. Malfoy looked up at him, silent in shock. Potter winked, and left. Malfoy was left gaping.

...

Draco was 16 and not unaccustomed to feelings of want and desire. It was a natural concept with teenage boys. _This_ however was definitely not natural.

Potter sat on the other side of the room, lounged lazily in his chair and staring at the Professor through dark, heavy-lidded eyes. Malfoy should not have licked his dry lips as he watched him take the top of his quill into his mouth and _suck_ , slowly, suggestively, beautifully. Despite the cool temperatures in the dungeons, Potter seemed to deem it too warm. He tugged at his collar, tipping his head back achingly slowly and exposing a tight, hollow neck to Malfoy. He eyed it eagerly.

"Mr Malfoy." Professor Snape drawled. Draco immediately looked away.

"Yes sir?" He asked in, he ashamed to admit, a slightly breathy voice.

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Is there something distracting you Mr Malfoy?"

"No sir, sorry sir." He replied quickly. There was a mocking, scorning look in Snape's eyes as they flicked to Potter and back to him in a heartbeat.

"I expect your full attention during my lessons Mr Malfoy." Draco nodded and with a final look Professor Snape carried on. Draco, slightly flustered, tried to keep his gaze on the professor. He briefly looked back to Potter and noticed he was _smirking_. _Bastard_! He knew. Oh shit he _knew_. Malfoy gulped nervously and carried on listening to Professor Snape, who was currently sweeping his way up the isle of the room.

"You will be brewing the colour change potion this lesson, an embarrassingly simple potion to get wrong, although I'm sure there will be one." His eyes flicked lazily to a sick looking Longbottom, and Draco snickered. "The instructions are on the board, so unless you are completely incompetent I'm sure there will be no questions." No one raised their hand. "Good. I expect a sample of your potions on my desk by the end. Begin!" He marched to his desk in a flourish of black robes. The lesson continued mudanely, and Draco did not look at Potter again. He _didn't_!

...

"I saw you," Draco stopped in his tracks, turning around warily. Potter was leant casually against the wall, a taunting smile on his lips. "I saw you looking."

"At what? Surely you don't mean your pitiful face, Potter." Malfoy replied coldly.

Potter sprung off the wall suddenly, and in a flash he was millimetres from Draco. "It's okay you know," His gaze dropped to Draco's lips hungrily, "To want something," his stare met Draco's once more, "To desire something," Draco found himself holding his breath, "To crave something so much it _hurts_."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Malfoy responded breathlessly.

Harry took a step back, his lips twitching, "Of course not, darling." Draco didn't reply.

"I want something," Potter said, eyes raking up and down Malfoy's figure. He licked his lips slowly before looking back up. "And I intend to take it."

And then he was gone.

...

Malfoy was late for transfiguration. He'd woken up early, sheets wet with sweat, limbs trembling with want, Potter's name still on his lips. Draco Malfoy should definitely not be having provocative dreams about _Harry Potter_. Draco did not like Harry Potter. He _didn't_. He hated him. Yes. Hated. Draco sat up, groaning in annoyance and dragging his long, slender fingers through his hair. He tried his best to ignore the aching between his legs, the obvious arousal still pumping through his veins.

The inner battle that raged inside Draco made him late for breakfast, and his Quidditch caption wanting to discuss practice made Draco late for Transfiguration. That was the beginning of the end.

"Nice of you to join us Mr Malfoy." Professor McGonagall said tightly when Draco entered. Everyone was sat, staring at him. Draco tried to ignore Potter's look of amusement. "5 points from Slytherin for your tardiness. Now, you can sit with Mr Potter."

"What? Why?" He immediately protested. McGonagall pursed her lips,

"Because Mr Malfoy, I said so. And because I have decided that a shift in the seats was necessary, _now take your seat_ " Draco begrudgingly slumped next to Potter. They were at the very back, and of course, no one was on their row but the two of them. Potter was grinning at him, which Draco ignored and stared at the front.

It was 10 minutes of McGonagall's droning when he felt it. A slim, firm hand on his thigh. He immediately stiffened. He turned. Harry was still staring forward in the perfect epitome of casualness.

"What on earth are you-"

"-Is there a problem Mr Malfoy?" McGonagall's voice was clipped, her eyes easily giving away her growing impatience.

"No." Draco managed to reply. She looked away and continued to talk. Draco began struggling to get Potter's hand away, making loud shuffling and banging noises.

"Mr Malfoy, interrupt my lesson one more time and you will be in detention for a week!" Draco instantly stopped struggling. Everyone was staring. Making the conscious decision to stop causing a scene, he went slack in obvious submission. The lesson continued, and 5 minutes later Draco felt the pressure on his thigh again. He ground his teeth, but said nothing. Potter's hand was trailing further, further, _further_ up. Surely he wasn't-

Draco's breath hitched. His hand was right _there_. _Ohgodohgod_. He was completely still. The hand wasn't moving. Unwillingly, Draco found his lower regions coming to life. He could see Harry's smirk, wide and brilliant as his gaze still remained forward. He began to twist his hand in slow, yet firm, ministrations. Draco was breathless. He felt his neck begin to sweat. Draco gasped out loud when he felt one slender, daring finger slip between the zipper of his trousers. What were the fucking chances that some girl had sneezed at that exact moment? This had to stop. Draco could not wrestle Harry's wandering hand away. People would look, they'd see his flushed face, his shaking legs, the obvious bulge in his of his trousers. What was he going-

 _Shit._

Somehow, some way, Harry had gotten his whole hand down Draco's pants. Shitshitshit. He had to go. He'd tell McGonagall he needed the loo, that he felt sick...anything to get away before he came in his pants during _Transfiguration_. The hand began working him mercilessly. Draco felt every nerve come to life. Ohgodohgod _ohgod._

Draco must have made some sound, no matter how small, because Professor McGonagall was staring at him in an instant.

"Mr Malfoy, if you feel so inclined to disrupt my lesson every second you can teach the class!" She all but shouted. Harry was ruthless. He continued to stroke him leisurely.

"No-I..." He tried to reply, but he knew he sound strange. No one could see. Jesus what was he going to do?

"No I do insist, please read us page 186." Her tone was strict with no room for argument. Draco tried anyway.

"Please-I'm sorry-...I"

"Read the extract Mr Malfoy." Draco's shaking hands took the book.

"The d-dangerous repercussions of- _hnng_ -illegally b-becoming an a-animagus can be-be, hnnng..." The groan of pleasure came out of his mouth loudly as Harry sped up.

"Is there something wrong Mr Malfoy?"

"I f-feel s-sick." She eyed him suspiciously.

"Finish the text Mr Malfoy and then see how you feel."

"E-extremely dangerous and...and n-not to men-mention a l-long prison se-sentence- _Hnnng_ -i-t c-can lead to h-half, Oh _GOD_." Malfoy came, quickly and suddenly.

"Mr Malfoy what is the matter!"

"I...I feel very sick." The whole class was gaping at him.

"Mr Potter please escort Mr Malfoy to the hospital wing."

"It would be my pleasure." Harry said, slipping his hand from Draco's pants easily and putting on a fake sympathetic smile. Draco glared viciously at him. Professor McGonagall continued her lecture the rest of the students. The class looked away and Harry ushered them out quickly. They walked in silence until they were out of earshot. Draco immediately pulled out his wand, pointing it directly at Potters heart.

"I'm going to kill you!"

"Why?" Harry said casually. He brought his hand up to his mouth. Draco stared, dumbfounded. He wasn't-surely he wouldn't-

Harry slowly brought three dripping fingers into his mouth and sucked the reminiscence of Draco's orgasm off them. Harry smirked.

"Y-you-w-hat-" Draco stared, trembling. He stumbled backwards, an embarrassing wet patch on the front of his trousers.

"Y-your a poof!" He said frantically, "I'm telling my father-"

"Running to Daddy, Draco?" There was a predatory glint in Harry's eyes, a goading smile twisted on his lips. He stepped closer- _too_ close-"How very feeble of you." He whispered lowly. Draco stared at him. His wet lips, taught neck, killing-curse-green eyes, messy black locks, long legs, hips pushing into his. _Ohgodohgodohgod_.

Harry kissed him. Hungrily, dominantly, desperately. He pushed Draco into the wall, hands twisting into his hair, pressed close-oh _so close_ \- into him. His lips travelled frantically down the hollow of Draco's throat, lapping up the sweat like a dog. Draco groaned loudly.

"Your mine Draco Malfoy." Harry growled. Swollen lips, mused locks, hungry eyes.

 _Yesyesyes._

"Yours." Draco breathed. Harry smirked. Draco watched as he dropped to his knees in front of him. He was most certainly doomed.

 _Ohgoohgodohgod._

 _AN: This was my first HarryDraco slash, did I do okay? Also my first kind of smutty fic...so yeah. Sorry if it was repetitive, or if there are any mistakes. Leave a review if you have time or want to. Thanks for reading! :D_


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